Dean McCrillis, Fiddlehead Triptych (River Bank, The Harvest, Full Bloom), oil on panel, 14 x 33 in., 2024.
In my eyes, the fiddlehead is a sign of spring’s arrival—an indication that conditions are right for growth. As a child, I remember seeing trucks and cars lined up beside my grandmother’s house in late April and early May. Her property abutted a 100-yard stretch of the Swift River, one of the only spots in town easily accessible by car. Just beyond the shoulder of the road a steep bank dropped down to a narrow floodplain, maybe forty feet wide. It was fertile ground for the fledgling ferns which became ripe for picking only a few days at a time. Once they grew taller than a few inches off the ground you had to wait until the next season to harvest.
My work is a thread that connects me to my place of origin. The land I grew up on was a source of sustenance for me, even beyond the physical. The Fiddlehead Triptych is a reminder of the cyclical nature of things. It honors my grandmother and the people of my town who sought their own well-being through what nature could provide. This riverbank in Western Maine was a garden for those who could read the signs and pass that knowledge to others.